Medical Man
by WithoutAnyHope
Summary: John finds Sherlock bleeding all over the kitchen floor and manages to make it just in time. Johnlock w/ some kissin. Please review!


_Thank you, medical man, for finding me. Somehow I know, you'll always find me._

There was a churning in John's stomach.  
>"Oh Jesus," he muttered, staring at the bloody body in front of him. He'd seen tons of blood and wounds, but this was different. Because this was no ordinary body.<br>"Sherlock. SHERLOCK. You need medical attention right now," he shouted at his friend, trying but failing to keep himself calm.  
>Sherlock groaned and tried to shake his head. That just resulted in a twitch and then more pain.<br>John was freezing up. He wasn't sure what to do.  
>Sherlock lay still on the floor of their kitchen. There was blood seeping out from the side of his forehead and there was still blood running out of the red slits along his arms.<br>"Sherlock, listen. There is blood everywhere. I'm going to get the first aid kit and then I'm going to move you onto the couch okay?"  
>Sherlock didn't reply but just moaned in pain. John ran out of the kitchen, through the living room and up the stairs.<br>Everything around Sherlock was blurry. Nothing would come into focus, which made Sherlock frustrated.  
><em>Where's John.<em>  
>Just as he thought it, John came rushing into the room with a green medical kit strapped around his shoulder.<br>"Sherlock. I'm going to pick you up. I know it will hurt, but I need you to co-operate."  
>Sherlock groaned again in reply.<br>John moved his hands underneath Sherlocks arm pits to support him and bent his knees, ready to lift.  
>"One, two, three," he nearly shouted, as he hoisted his friend up, flinging Sherlocks arm around his shoulder.<br>John had one hand on Sherlocks waist and the other was holding onto Sherlocks arm, making sure he didn't slip.  
>The detective was surprisingly very light, though John wasn't sure why he was so surprised; the man hardly ate a meal a over the course of two or so days. Sherlock was tall and quite well built from what John knew, so he had expected him to weigh at least a few pounds more.<br>John hurriedly pulled Sherlock towards the couch, trying not to hurt him any further. Sherlocks was to dizzy to tell his legs to support his weight, so it was all on John.  
>John could feel the blood from Sherlocks arm sticking onto the back of his neck.<br>Finally, after a minute of struggle, Sherlock was on his back lying on the couch.  
>John didn't waste a moment. He pulled the medical kit off of his shoulder and opened it. He pulled out tissues, band aids, creams; basically anything he thought might reduce the pain in the slightest. Before John could start bandaging his friend, he needed a washcloth. He ran into the kitchen quickly and grabbed a tea towel, dousing it in water.<br>"Okay Sherlock," he said, making his way back over the couch. "I'm going to clean off the blood. The waters going to sting a bit."  
>Sherlock mustered a nod. He blinked a few times and turned his head slightly so that he could see John. His vision was getting better.<br>He felt a sting as John placed the cloth onto his arm.  
>John moved the cloth from one arm to the other, cleaning away the dry blood and mopping up the fresh. He spread some sort of cream onto Sherlocks arms, which made them sting even worse, and then wrapped a bandage onto each cut.<br>From what John could see now, the damage done to Sherlock was nothing too serious. He had lost a lot of blood, but he would heal over time with a few scars. John looked up at Sherlock who had his eyes closed. There was a distasteful expression on his face; he obviously was still in a little bit of pain.  
>That's when John noticed the gash on Sherlocks forehead that he hadn't done anything about yet.<br>"Jesus," he muttered, picking up the wash cloth once again. Sherlock winced as he felt Johns hand close to his forehead, and he recoiled into a sitting position.  
>"Sherlock, you're going to have to let me patch that up. It's just going to keep on bleeding and it could get infected," John told him as he got off the ground and sat down on the couch beside Sherlock.<br>Sherlock just sighed.  
>John grabbed Sherlocks chin and slowly turned it towards himself.<br>The two men made eye contact for a brief moment. John glanced down at the washcloth in his hand trying to do something, anything, that would keep him from having to look at Sherlocks bloody, but somehow gorgeous face.  
>Both of them cleared their throats at the same time, which just made the room even more uncomfortable.<br>"So," John said, breaking the silence as he dabbed the cloth onto Sherlocks forehead, his eyes never leaving the spot of the wound. "What, exactly, the HELL were you doing?"  
>Sherlock licked his lips before speaking. Somehow, the action made Johns heart skip a beat.<br>"I was doing an experiment. I wanted to see how the blade of a knife affects the amount of blood drawn over the course of ten seconds. It was for the case."  
>"I don't care if it was for the freaking case Sherlock. You practically cut your arms right off."<br>Sherlock rolled his eyes at Johns comment. "Well not that you asked, but I came up with the conclusion the rigged double-side steak knife works the best. Out of the common knives you may find in ones household he said while he pointed to the location of one of the cuts. "It had an increasingly more amount of blood when-"  
>John interrupted him. "Christ Sherlock! I don't even care! You could have killed yourself of blood loss if you had have kept it up! You can't put yourself in danger like that."<br>"But John I-"  
>"Thank god I found you! I mean if I hadn't, who knows how long you would have kept doing that for."<br>"John I was already-"  
>"And that doesn't even explain this freaking gash on your forehead!" John shouted in frustration, shoving the wash cloth harder onto Sherlocks wound.<br>"John. That hurts." Sherlocks voice was quiet.  
>John pulled his hand back slowly.<br>"Sorry," he murmured.  
>"I was already finished the experiment. I was about to wash off my own arms, but I slipped on the blood that was around my feet and smashed my head on the table."<br>John held the wash cloth in his lap and stared at it. "Listen Sherlock," he said, daring not to look up at Sherlock. "You just can't... Do that to yourself. Case or not. I was really worried when I saw you lying there in all that blood. Actually to say I was worried is an understatement. I was scared. I was really scared."  
>"John?"<br>"No, just let me finish. I would tell you to go do an experiment like this on some pig or something, but I know you'd argue that the results wouldn't be accurate since it was a pig not a human but-"  
>"John."<br>"Sherlock! I'm trying to tell you something. You can't scare me like that okay?" John said, finally looking up to stare at Sherlocks soft, pale face. There were tears forming in Johns eyes, but he didn't release them. They just sat in his eyes, clouding his vision.  
>"John."<br>"What?"  
>"Please stop talking."<br>Johns eyebrows knit together and he looked as thought he was about to say something, but didn't quite get the chance because Sherlocks lips were suddenly pressed against his.  
>John's eyes opened wider.<br>_Sherlock... What are you... Why does this feel...  
><em>John couldn't find his voice nor the strength to pull away.  
>Instead he just closed his eyes and for some reason, let it happen.<br>_This isn't what I... should want..._ He thought.  
>But he knew that that was everything he wanted. To feel Sherlock there with him, the heat of their bodies blending together, the kiss the two of them shared, to taste Sherlock; he knew this was everything he wanted and more.<br>Sherlock slowly pulled backwards.  
>"John?" Sherlock said, putting their foreheads together.<br>"Yes?" John's voice was hoarse.  
>"Thank you,"<br>John tried to nod, but ended up just biting his lip instead.  
>The two of them stayed quiet like that for what felt like forever, their heads pressed against each others. The only sounds were their breathing and their beating hearts.<br>It didn't matter to John what happened before that or what would happen after.  
>What mattered to John was that moment that he spent with Sherlock; the man he wanted to spend his forever with.<p>

Authors Note:  
>I know the ending is a cliché... Don't judge me too harshly though; I wrote this with a really bad headache JUST for you guys ^.^<br>If you read, please review. They are much appreciated. #.#  
>I will take ANY suggestions for pairings from this show and writededicate the story to you if you do wish to ask for one. It makes me happy to write for people so feel free to ask!  
>Anyway, thanks so much for the reviews and favourites. Love you guys!<br>-Hope 


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